


called to the trees (wander through the darkness)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Finnish Mythology & Folklore, Haunted Houses, Horror, M/M, Pagan Gods, Power of Love, boyfriends who kill gods together stay together, i can't believe that's not a tag. disgraceful, i guess? they have trauma, there's a lot going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-21 06:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Nikolaj is dozing against the window when the car engine starts making a threatening grinding noise.He and Patrik go looking for help, but they find something much more sinister.(when you find an empty house in the woods, what else can you do but go inside?)





	called to the trees (wander through the darkness)

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted an october fic to write for spooky season and miranda mentioned having a dream about nikolaj and patrik trapped in a haunted house with a demon. so i took that concept and uh. extrapolated. a LOT.
> 
> once again back with the research! this time on finnish folklore and mythology, because lord knows i don't know anything about that. anyway i'll elaborate on that in the end notes.
> 
> ps if you've seen the nun and you think stuff looks familiar that's because i finessed some of its concepts
> 
> title from "come wayward souls" by the blasting company. yes, the one from over the garden wall.
> 
> happy halloween! (yes it is halloween for me at the time of this posting)

Nikolaj is dozing against the window when the car engine starts making a threatening grinding noise. He snaps awake at a sharp _ clank, _looking around in alarm.

“Fuck,” Patrik says, pulling the car onto the shoulder and slowing to a stop. 

“What happened?” Nikolaj asks. He unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for the door handle, prepared to step out of the car to check under the hood. He’s no good with cars, but maybe a cable just came loose.

Patrik shakes his head. “I don’t know. It was fine until a minute ago.” A muscle in his jaw twitches. “I just had it checked out,” he says, mostly to himself. 

“It’s probably nothing serious then,” Nikolaj says, and lets himself out. Patrik sighs and follows him out. The gravel crunches under their shoes. “Do you know how car engines work?”

Patrik searches for the switch to open the hood. “Not really,” he says. “You?”

“No.” Nikolaj bites his lower lip. “We can probably figure it out, right?”

The hood opens with a click and a cloud of of oily black smoke billows out. Nikolaj stumbles away from the car, waving his hands in front of his face and coughing. He shuts his eyes against the burn of the smoke. 

“Nikolaj!” Patrik’s voice is sharp with alarm and a moment later Nikolaj feels Patrik’s hands on his shoulders, steadying him. “Are you okay?” 

Blinking hard, Nikolaj tries to catch his breath. He shakes his head and tries to smile reassuringly at Patrik. 

“I’m fine,” he says. Patrik looks uncertain, but his grip loosens on Nikolaj’s shoulders. “I’m _ fine,” _ he repeats, and pokes Patrik gently in the belly. Patrik makes a face at him, but lets go and steps back. “What’s wrong with the engine?” 

“I have no idea.” Patrik scowls. “I’ll have to call… someone.” He kicks at the gravel, scowling. He turns back to the car, reaching for his phone. 

While Patrik tries to figure out who to call, Nikolaj looks down the long stretch of highway. The black asphalt stretches out, a thin line marking the division between the lanes. On either side, the dark tangle of the Finnish forest seems to reach out, branches arching over the fence and undergrowth at the very edge of the road.

Nikolaj looks into the trees. For a second—just an instant, really—he thinks he sees something moving in the shadows. 

“Fuck!” Patrik says, his voice too loud in the silence of the empty road. Nikolaj flinches at the noise, and when he looks back into the forest, there’s nothing there. He shakes himself off. This isn’t the time to be jumpy. “There’s no service,” Patrik explains when Nikolaj joins him near the car.

Nikolaj checks his own phone. “I have nothing either,” he says. He shivers, the summer sun no longer warm enough. Patrik slings an arm around his shoulders, pulling Nikolaj into his side. Nikolaj tips his head against Patrik’s shoulder and sighs, shuddery and soft.

“It’s going to be okay, Niky,” Patrik says.

In that moment, with Patrik warm and solid against him, and the sun still shining, Nikolaj actually believes it.

“Come on, let’s walk a bit and see if we can find a house or something,” Patrik says. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen any people, so there has to be something nearby.” 

“Can’t we wait with the car?” Nikolaj asks. “It’s going to be dark soon.” 

Patrik shakes his head. “I don’t think anyone will be driving by any time soon,” he says, casting a look back the way they came. “We don’t have to go too far and we’ll come back before dark if we don’t find anything.”

Nikolaj bites his lip uncertainly, but Patrik is right. He can’t remember when they last saw another car and it’s getting late. “Okay,” he says, “but we come back before dark.”

“Promise,” Patrik agrees.

* * *

They’ve walked barely a mile down the highway when Nikolaj spots the road leading into the woods. 

_ Road _ is a generous term for what’s pretty much a beaten-down dirt path, but it’s wide enough for a car, so.

Patrik exchanges a dubious glance with him. “Do you think—?”

Nikolaj shrugs. There are old wooden posts driven into the ground to mark the edge of the road and they all look like they should’ve been replaced fifty years ago. One of them has what used to be a metal sign perched on the top, but it’s so rusted now that Nikolaj can’t make anything out.

“Maybe there’s a house,” he says, “and they haven’t gotten around to repairing this yet.”

“Maybe,” Patrik says, a faraway look in his eyes as he stares into the trees. He shakes himself out of it and clears his throat. “Okay, let’s check it out.” 

Nikolaj wishes they’d kept walking the second he steps onto the dirt path. 

The trees arch overhead, letting only the tiniest slivers of light through the canopy. The scent of rotten leaves is thick in the air, like plants have been dead and stagnating in water for too long. Nikolaj can’t stop himself from looking out into the trees, like he’s trying to see if something’s following them.

He shuffles a little closer to Patrik.

They haven’t walked far from the highway when a building comes into view. It’s a massive house built out of wood and stone, and it looks simultaneously like it’s been standing for centuries and like it was just built. The garden around it looks like something that belongs in a jungle.

There’s warm, golden light shining from the windows. 

Nikolaj exchanges a look with Patrik, not sure what such huge house is doing this far from civilization.

“Weird,” is all Patrik says. He steps towards the house.

_ “Weird?” _ Nikolaj demands. “Don’t you think this is, like.” He has to pause, not sure of the word. “Scary?” he finally asks, his voice small.

Patrik turns to him, taking his shoulders in his hands and squeezing gently. “You can wait here,” he says gently. “I’ll go see if they have a phone. I’ll just be a minute, okay?” 

Nikolaj bites his lip. He doesn’t like the idea of Patrik going without him, but something about the house makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He nods, feeling a little bit like a coward, but Patrik touches his cheek and smiles at him reassuringly. Patrik leans down to kiss his forehead before he turns away and walks up to the door. 

From the safety of the trees, Nikolaj watches Patrik knock on the door and wait. He glances over his shoulder and smiles at Nikolaj as if to say, _ it’s alright. _

Nikolaj only blinks once.

Just once, but when he opens his eyes again, Patrik is gone. 

Nikolaj feels his heartbeat speed up, his breath catching in his throat. “Patrik?” he calls, his voice wavering. He shuffles closer to the house, looking around the shadowed clearing as if Patrik might jump out from behind a tree at any moment. “Patrik, this isn’t funny,” he tries again.

Nothing. 

His hand is shaking when he reaches out to open the door and he curls his hand into a fist before he can touch the handle. Something deep inside him screams at him to turn around and run away as fast as he can. He won’t. He _ can’t. _ Patrik is still here and Nikolaj is _ not _ going to leave him behind.

He opens the door. 

It swings open silently, revealing a shadowed hall. There are oil lamps lining the wall, but they barely cast enough light for Nikolaj to see the floor. Aside from the lamps and strange, out of place floral wallpaper, the walls are bare.

“Patrik?” Nikolaj’s voice is a wheeze and barely louder than a whisper. He clears his throat and tries again. “Patrik, where are you?” Still no answer comes. Nikolaj grits his teeth and steps over the threshold and into the darkness of the house.

As soon as he’s standing on the polished wood floor, the door slams shut behind him in a gust of wind.

Nikolaj whirls around and grabs the doorknob, yanking on it as hard as he can, but it’s no use. The door is sealed shut. “No,” he says, “no no no _ no, _ come _ on.” _ The door ignores him and stays stubbornly locked. “Fuck,” he says. He kicks the door for good measure. 

With nowhere else to go, Nikolaj starts off down the hallway. Something about it makes his skin crawl. 

_ Weren’t there three doors on the left? _ he wonders, and the thought brings a fresh burst of panic. Wait—the _ door. _

Nikolaj looks back towards the door he’d come in. The door had been heavy oak, painted a deep green on the inside. Now, even in the dim light of the oil lamps, Nikolaj can tell the door is red. 

All the air leaves his lungs in a rush. His eyes stay fixed on the door, a beacon of deep maroon at the end of the hall. He can’t look away, no matter how much he wants to run.

He sees the door swing open, slowly, slowly. A bead of sweat trickles down the side of his face. He doesn’t move to wipe it off, frozen like a deer in headlights. Or maybe, more accurately, the jaws of a wolf.

The door thumps against the wall once it’s open all the way.

Nikolaj tries to swallow, to lick his lips, but it’s as if all the moisture in his mouth has evaporated.

The space beyond the doorway is pitch dark. Nikolaj squints, trying to see better, then he _ does. _

Something is standing in that beyond space. It’s shaped like a human, Nikolaj thinks, but its outline… it looks _ wrong. _

Then it shifts and blinks open yellow eyes to stare right at Nikolaj.

_Not real, _Nikolaj tells himself. _It's not real, it's not real, it's not—_

A low growl comes from the doorway.

“Ha-ah,” Nikolaj moans, his scream dying in his throat. 

The eyes blink, just once.

It steps into the hallway.

Whatever spell Nikolaj was under breaks. He turns, his pulse so loud in his ears that he can’t hear himself breathing, and he runs.

The hallways are narrow and the floor is slippery, but Nikolaj is driven by adrenaline and he sprints through the house without stopping. He rounds a corner and ducks through the first open door he finds, closing it behind him as quick as he can without slamming it.

He backs away from the door, shaking, and slides down against the wall to huddle in the corner. His knuckles are white where he’s gripping his knees. 

_ Patrik’s out there, _ Nikolaj realizes with horror. Patrik’s out there, _ alone, _ not knowing there’s a monster in the house with him. 

Nikolaj buries his face in his hands and tries to slow his breathing. Legs trembling like a newborn fawn, he stands up and makes for the door. 

Halfway there, Nikolaj freezes. _ Something is moving in the hall. _

The doorknob rattles.

Nikolaj covers his mouth to muffle his whimper. 

“Nikolaj?” _ Patrik. _

Nikolaj throws the door open and pulls him inside before shutting it again. He makes sure it’s locked before throwing himself at Patrik.

“Whoa,” Patrik says, but he wraps his arms around Nikolaj’s shoulders anyway. “Are you okay?”

“There’s something,” Nikolaj sucks in a breath, “something’s out there.” 

Patrik presses Nikolaj back by his shoulders so he can look into his eyes. He frowns slightly. “There’s nothing out there, Nik,” he says slowly. He tilts his head. “Were you hiding?”

“What—” Nikolaj stares at him. “But it—it was out there, it _ chased _ me, I saw it.” 

Patrik rubs the back of Nikolaj’s neck. “You’re so tense,” he says. “It was probably just stress.” 

Nikolaj slaps his hand away, suddenly furious. “I saw it!” he says, remembering only at the last second to keep his voice down. Patrik still looks dubious. “I know what I saw,” Nikolaj hisses. He’s angry, angry that Patrik won’t _ believe him. _

“I guess you could’ve seen something,” Patrik acquiesces. He pauses. “Maybe.” Patrik shrugs and moves around him before Nikolaj can get snap at him like he wants to.

Then Nikolaj realizes what he’s about to do. “Wait!” he cries, forgetting to whisper as Patrik turns the doorknob. 

The door swings open, revealing—nothing. There’s nothing there. Nikolaj blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair.

Patrik looks down the hall, then back to him. “Well? Are you coming?” 

Nikolaj shakes himself off and follows. He doesn’t want to be alone. Not here, not in this place.

“We should go,” Nikolaj says, stepping closer into Patrik’s side. “There’s not—there’s nobody here to help us, let’s go back to the car.” He doesn’t mention the disappearing door, scared that Patrik will tell him he’s just imagining things.

“We can still look around a bit,” Patrik says. “Maybe the people who live here are out, or something. There could still be a phone.” He looks at Nikolaj and there’s something in his eyes that makes Nikolaj flinch away from him.

“I—” Nikolaj stammers, trying to push through the pressure building in his throat. “I wanna go home.” He manages to get the sentence out without his voice breaking, but when he sees the dismissive look in Patrik’s eyes, his breath catches in his chest and he has to turn away to hide the tears rising in his eyes.

“Well,” Patrik says, his tone long-suffering like he doesn’t care that Nikolaj is scared, “we can’t just _ go home _ because you’re _scared.”_

Nikolaj feels like he’s been slapped. “What?” he whispers. He blinks hard and a few tears slip free. He wipes them away quickly, hoping Patrik hasn’t seen them. He _ hates _ this. Patrik has never treated him like this before, Patrik _ loves _ him. 

At least, Nikolaj thought he did.

The thought that he might not makes Nikolaj cry harder. He presses a hand over his mouth, half-turning so Patrik can’t hear him, can’t see his face. It’s no use, anyway.

“Are you _ crying?” _ Patrik’s voice isn’t the gentle tone he’s used the few times he’s seen Nikolaj cry. There’s nothing to suggest he wants to comfort Nikolaj. Instead, he sounds mocking, sounds _ mean. _ “Nikolaj,” Patrik says, dangerous, “look at me.”

Nikolaj shakes his head. His shoulders are shaking with every shuddering breath. If he looks at Patrik, if he sees his face, he won’t be able to stop himself from really losing it.

Patrik sighs loudly. Then a heavy hand shoves Nikolaj against the wall. 

The cap of Nikolaj’s shoulder thunks against the wall, hard enough that it’ll bruise. He cries out, gasping for breath as he tries to wrench himself away from Patrik’s iron grip.

“Please,” he begs. Patrik turns him until his back is against the wall, his hand low on Nikolaj’s throat but _ tight. _ “Please duh-_don’t, _ Patrik.” He keeps his eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see whatever is on Patrik’s face right now. 

Patrik’s hand tightens on his throat. _ “Open your eyes,” _ he snarls, his voice nearly unrecognizable.

Nikolaj, struggling to breathe, finally forces his eyes open. His vision is blurry with tears and he blinks hard to try to focus. 

The first thing he thinks, somehow delirious with relief, is, _ that’s not Patrik. _

The second thing he thinks is terrified. _ That’s not Patrik. _

It still looks mostly like Patrik, whatever it is, but the shape of it is decaying like a fallen tree in the woods. It doesn’t look like what Nikolaj would expect a rotten corpse to look like, but there’s something about it—

It grabs Nikolaj’s chin and forces his eyes up to look into its face. The blue it stole from Patrik is gone, burned away by a terrible, burning yellow.

It grins with Patrik’s mouth. 

Nikolaj’s throat is free, but he still can’t get the screams out. All he can manage is a tiny, pathetic whimper. 

Then he feels something move under the skin of the thing’s hand. 

Nikolaj yanks himself away from the creature, stumbling down the hall as fast as he can. 

The hall seems to spin around him, but he can’t tell if it’s because the house itself is moving or if it’s because he’s dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Nikolaj!” the thing howls after him, any trace of Patrik’s voice completely gone. Footsteps slap against the floor behind him. 

Nikolaj chances a look over his shoulder. What he sees belongs in a nightmare.

The oil lamps are gone, if they were ever there in the first place. The floor is no longer smooth, polished hardwood, but rotten wood boards. A few rusted nails point towards the ceiling dangerously. The wallpaper is gone and the walls are draped in flowering vines, the stench of them so strong that Nikolaj gags.

The monster is chasing him, running slowly and falteringly. Anything that had looked like Patrik before is gone now, leaving a stumpy creature with furious yellow eyes. Nikolaj doesn’t try to look closer than that.

He shoves open the first open door he sees and slams it behind him. He locks it and drags a rickety chair over, pushing it under the door handle like people do in movies. He backs away from the door, feeling like he’s going to throw up. 

He bumps into something hard.

It’s something tall and flat covered in a rotten sheet. Nikolaj grips the sheet, skin cringing at the mold under his palm, and he pulls it away to reveal a mirror. It doesn’t feel like it should be here.

Before he can cover it again, the door handle rattles. Nikolaj stares at the door. He’s not a religious man, but he prays desperately for the door to hold. 

After a moment, there is silence. Nikolaj exhales.

Then—a shadow.

There’s a shadow on the wall.

The shadow wasn’t there before. 

It moves slowly over the wall, but with a purpose. Nikolaj’s breath stutters to a stop as he watches it, turning to track its progress.

The shadow disappears behind the mirror.

Nikolaj stares at his reflection, heart in his throat. 

_ There’s something behind him. _

Nikolaj spins around but the room is empty. His heart pounds in his ears as he scans the room, but there’s nowhere something could hide. 

He looks back at the mirror to see yellow eyes staring back at him, just over his shoulder.

“No—” he gasps, then the creature grabs him and throws him into the wall. He hits the ground and groans. The creature’s feet come into view a moment before it grabs him by the throat and lifts him up.

His feet dangle in the air as the thing holds him up. He claws at its hand, trying to breathe. Through the pain, Nikolaj gets his first real look at the creature. It’s—it’s a woman. Sort of.

She looks ancient and decrepit, though her grip on Nikolaj’s throat reveals the strength hidden in her limbs.

Nikolaj kicks at her weakly. She doesn’t react, only tilting her head consideringly.

“You need a little more,” she hisses through her black teeth, sending a damp breath over Nikolaj’s face, _ “time.” _

The room spins around him again and he chokes on a terrified moan. 

The thing throws him back again. He braces to hit the wall, but instead he passes through the space it used to be and hits the ground hard. His head bangs off the floor. 

Nikolaj manages to look up, fingers digging into the floor and his head aching. His vision is going dim and he thinks, in a resigned sort of way, that he’s going to pass out.

Before he does, he sees the hag looking down at him through a doorway that didn’t exist a minute ago.

He drops his head back to the floor and closes his eyes. All he can hear is the hag’s laughter, echoing in his skull.

_ I’m sorry, Patrik, _ he thinks as his awareness fades. _ I wasn’t strong enough. _

* * *

Nikolaj wakes up in the dark. 

For a panicked second before his eyes adjust, he thinks he’s blind. Then he notices the shadowed corners of the room, the lines blacker-on-black. There’s a strip of pale gray light along the floor at the opposite end of the room—the door. 

Struggling to stand, Nikolaj pushes himself up on shaking arms. His throat aches, pain pulsing along with his heart. There’s a cold but somehow burning feeling on the skin there. Nikolaj has to pause when he gets to his knees, struggling to catch his breath. 

“Patrik?” he calls, his voice rasping. The effort makes him double over until his forehead is nearly pressed to the rough floor, body wracked with coughs. No answer comes. Patrik is either somewhere else, or unconscious, or—

_ No. _Nikolaj won’t let himself imagine it. 

He uses the wall to push himself up, then leans against it for a moment while his head spins and bile rises in his throat. Still propping using the wall as a crutch, Nikolaj shuffles closer to the light. He’s dizzy and aching but he needs to get out, needs to find Patrik and warn him about the hideous _ thing _ in the house. No matter how much he wants to curl up on the floor and close his eyes, letting the monster come for him, he can’t. 

Not when Patrik needs him.

He’s reaching out for the door, fumbling for a handle, and something moves behind him. Nikolaj freezes, his fingers trembling. He doesn’t breathe.

The sound comes again, like the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. This time, it’s followed by a heavy, dragging footstep. Then another. And another. 

Sweat trickles down the side of Nikolaj’s face. 

Whatever it is that’s here in the dark with him is getting closer. He can smell it now, like rotten leaves in the springtime uncovered by the snowmelt. 

_ It knows I’m here, _Nikolaj thinks, the thought bright with terror. Nikolaj made his presence obvious enough, shouting and moving around. There’s no way it doesn’t know he’s there, and surely his shadow is visible in the light from the door. 

The hair on the back of his neck rises and Nikolaj knows, with a prey instinct so ancient that it has been mostly forgotten, that _ something _ is reaching out for him. 

His mind blank to everything except fear, Nikolaj grabs for the door handle and throws himself through. He spins around to slam it behind him. 

He takes a deep breath, hands pressed to the door to make sure nothing tries to follow him through, then he turns around.

Two yellow eyes stare back at him.

Nikolaj’s back hits the door. There’s nowhere left to run.

In front of him, the hag blinks at him slowly, consideringly. Her flesh is hardened like the bark of an ancient tree, her hands gnarled where she reaches out to touch him. 

He recoils, his skin crawling at the idea of that thing coming any closer, but the door won’t open again. He’s trapped. 

Her hand closes around his jaw, pushing his head back until his neck burns with the strain. He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut, his heart beating rabbit-fast.

“Not ideal,” she rasps, her voice like the scraping of frozen branches in a winter breeze. She grunts, then shoves Nikolaj to his knees. 

“Please,” he chokes, “please, please, don’t—”

A jagged, unnaturally long fingernail presses to his throat, that soft spot just under his ear. “I do not need you alive for this,” she says, a warning note to her voice.

“Take me,” he whispers, “take me, but let him go. _ Please. _ I’ll do anything you want, just let him leave.” His breath hitches on a sob and hot tears spill from his eyes. 

The hag chuckles, putting a finger under his chin and tipping his head up in a mimicry of something loving. “Oh, you poor fool,” she says, her grin showing black, rotten teeth, “then what would my darling husband do?”

“Nikolaj!” 

Nikolaj turns his head fast, just in time to see Patrik burst through the doors at the other end of the room.

Patrik’s shirt is shredded, a line of bloody claw marks marking his arm. He’s holding an iron fire poker in one hand and his belt is wrapped around his other hand, held like a whip. His eyes are wild as they meet Nikolaj’s, then the hand grabs his face and turns him back to face her.

Nikolaj thinks he can hear Patrik screaming as the hag’s eyes grow brighter and brighter until all he can see is the dull yellow glow. 

The hag releases Nikolaj’s face and the light fades. He watches as she crumples to the ground, her body no more than a husk, shriveled and dead.

Nikolaj wants to get up. He wants to stand, wants to go to Patrik and feel Patrik’s arms around him, but he can’t move. _He_ _can’t move._

His breathing doesn’t even speed up despite the panic rising in his throat, then finally he gets up but it’s _ wrong. _ He feels like a puppet. He’s not controlling his own body.

_ Patrik, _ he tries to shout. _ Get out, get out, get out, run run run run— _The words are strangled in his throat.

His head turns to look at Patrik. His eyes moving without him wanting them too makes him feel sick, and more than anything else like he’s not the one in control. 

Patrik is looking at him with hope in his eyes, lowering his weapons slowly. 

Nikolaj bows his head and his hands run through his hair. He wants to scream as agony tears through him. It feels like his head is splitting in half, something ripping him open.

Then he feels something else. Something new, something that _ doesn’t belong _ and he’s turned to face a grimy old mirror.

“Not bad,” his mouth says, and it’s his voice but it’s _ not _ and Nikolaj feels like he might go insane. 

In the mirror, Nikolaj looks back at himself. His eyes glow a dim yellow, any trace of blue scorched away. He doesn’t want to keep looking, but he can’t turn away.

His hair is braided with grass and flowers too bright to be anything but alive and growing, more plants twisted around his wrists and winding up his arms. 

Worst of all are the antlers. Nikolaj recognizes the velvety look of them as being elk antlers, curving out from his hair. His hand reaches up to touch one of them.

“Oh, this is much better,” he says, and there’s a sharpness to his voice that he’s never used before.

“What,” Patrik says, sounding like he’s been punched, “what _ are _ you?” 

Nikolaj turns slowly, like whatever is inside of him is in no rush. 

_ Run! _ he wants to scream. _ It’s a trap, she’s stalling, get out! _

“What, you don’t recognize me? You, a child of this land? Have you forgotten everything?” Nikolaj’s mouth curls into a grin. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. You won’t need to remember when my husband takes you. He will be here soon.”

“What have you done with Nikolaj?” Patrik’s voice is unsteady, but he raises his fire poker and shuffles a step closer.

Nikolaj’s shoulders rise and fall in a careless shrug. “The boy is dead.” 

_ What? _

“I needed only his body. His mind… it would only have gotten in the way.” 

_ No, I’m still here. _ Nikolaj can’t do anything to tell Patrik. He can’t even _ blink. _

Patrik looks like he’s going to throw up. His face is gray and stricken, grief warring with disbelief in his eyes. “You killed him,” he whispers. He sways like he isn’t able to hold himself upright anymore.

_ I’m here, _ Nikolaj tries to say, _ I’m alive. _

“Yes,” his mouth says instead. A laugh bursts free from his throat, but there’s no mirth in the sound. It sounds like something mocking the idea of what laughter should be, horrible and inhuman.

Patrik staggers like he’s been slapped, staring at Nikolaj desperately like he’s looking for a sign that Nikolaj is still in there. Nikolaj _ burns _ with the frustration of not being able to do anything, to show Patrik that he’s alive.

“No,” Patrik whispers. He staggers back like he’s been slapped, the fire poker falling from his hand to clatter against the wooden floor. 

Nikolaj tries to fight against the power making him step forward, but it’s useless.

Patrik doesn’t even try to move before Nikolaj’s hand closes around his throat. All he does is _ look _ at Nikolaj. He doesn’t even say anything. 

Nikolaj throws him against the wall. Somehow, the thing controlling him is far stronger than any human should be. Patrik hits the wall and slides to the floor, pushing himself up on unsteady arms. He stays like that, staring at the floor while his breathing comes fast and unsteady.

“My husband will be here soon,” Nikolaj says thoughtfully. He fists a hand in Patrik’s hair and pulls his head back. “He doesn’t need you to be alive, and it’s been so long since I got to kill any humans.” 

Patrik’s face is blank, his eyes empty, and it’s so much worse than the shock Nikolaj had seen earlier.

One of Nikolaj’s fingernails, sharp and almost clawlike, traces the line of Patrik’s jaw from below his ear to his chin. “Is there anything you wish to say?” Nikolaj can barely recognize his own voice anymore.

Patrik looks up at him slowly. “Niky,” he says softly, “if there’s anything left of you in there, I—I love you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I—” Patrik’s voice breaks on a sob, his shoulders shaking as he bows his head again.

“How touching,” Nikolaj says, mocking, and one of his hands grips Patrik’s throat.

And it stops. 

His hand is barely closed around Patrik’s throat, the lightest touch of his palm against his skin.

Patrik has his chin tilted up, eyes confused like he’s not sure why Nikolaj stopped.

“What.” Nikolaj feels his lips curl into a snarl. “Impossible.” 

Something wet slides down Nikolaj’s cheek and he realizes that he’s crying—which means that his consciousness is breaking through. 

“Nikolaj?” Patrik gasps. He raises his hands to where Nikolaj is holding his throat, and Nikolaj seizes the thread and _ pulls. _

He staggers back, off-balance from the new addition of the antlers. 

“Get out,” he cries, throwing his hands up towards Patrik. Every move feels like he has to push through a wall of stone. “You have to run, please, I can’t hold her much longer.” He chokes on his breath. “I love you,” he says, and another tear slips free. 

“I won’t leave you,” Patrik says, fierce and determined and so, so brave.

The room shudders threateningly and Nikolaj loses his focus. It’s only for a heartbeat, but it’s enough for the hag to retake control of his body.

“Well, it seems the boy is more determined than I thought.” Nikolaj sucks in a hissing breath through his teeth. 

Now that Nikolaj has held the threads of control, it’s easier for him to feel for them again. Tendrils of thought reach for the threads, but he can’t get a grip again. He can feel the mind of the hag fighting him now, but when her mind touches his, he can _ see. _

In what seems like a last ditch attempt to drive Nikolaj out of his own head, she yanks the thread away. This time, Nikolaj catches it.

He can _see it_ in his mind, himself standing at one end with the shining thread wrapped around his hand and the hag at the other end, only—she’s not a hag. Somehow, Nikolaj knows this is her true form, antlers twisted with spring wildflowers that tangle down into her golden hair, her yellow eyes bright like the morning sun and smelling like a meadow after summer rain. 

_ What happened to you? _Nikolaj can’t stop the thought from bubbling up in his mind, letting it dance across the thread to the woman.

_ You did. _The answer strikes him hard, but not hard enough to knock him loose.

Instead, the thought comes with a memory, visions of a past blurred with the haze of centuries long gone.

_ Forest… trees… ours…. _

_ They forget us… they take our trees and give nothing…. _

_ … take back what was ours. _

Nikolaj drags himself out of the memories, knowing he could spend a lifetime in them and barely see a fraction of it. He tightens his grip on the thread and pulls, the things he has seen giving him strength.

“Patrik,” he gasps, able to see into the real world again. Patrik has picked up his fire poker and backed against the wall, staring through the empty doorway. He tears his eyes away from the shadowy thing in the hall to look at Nikolaj. “Mielikki,” Nikolaj shouts. “Her name, she’s—”

“Oh, dear.” A rumbling voice booms through the room and the shaking of the house stops all at once.

This time, Nikolaj doesn’t let interruptions ruin his focus. These things may have been gods, once, but that was a very long time ago. They’re weak, for what it’s worth, and Nikolaj plans to exploit that as much as he can. 

The husband steps through the door. 

Like Mielikki was, his form is decrepit and rotten. His mossy beard and hair are thick with mold. Still, his limbs are as strong as those of an oak tree and could crush Nikolaj easily. 

Nikolaj inches closer to Patrik, every action requiring all his strength and willpower. 

The forest god turns his yellow eyes to Nikolaj, examining him thoughtfully. “We have grown weaker than I thought,” he murmurs, “for a simple human to be able to survive the taking.” He shakes his head. “No matter. Its mind will burn away soon enough.”

Nikolaj and Patrik exchange a terrified look. He’s not sure what that means, but he wants Mielikki out of his head even more. 

“As for you,” the god says, facing Patrik, “you will be worthy as my new body.”

“Don’t look in his eyes!” Nikolaj cries, the only warning he can get out before the god backhands him across the face and sends him flying across the room.

“Nikolaj!” Patrik shouts, but his attempt to get to Nikolaj is halted when the old god lurches in front of him. Patrik keeps his eyes fixed somewhere around the vicinity of the god’s throat, refusing to look into his face. 

Nikolaj struggles to stand, the awkward weight of the antlers working against him.

_ Give in, _ Mielikki croons in his mind. _ Let me take over. You can rest. _

“I don’t _ fucking _ think so,” Nikolaj says, his voice a snarl, and he forces himself to stand. 

Patrik swings the fire poker. The god—_Tapio, god of the forest, _Nikolaj remembers with memories that aren’t his—catches it easily.

Then he shrieks as the iron hisses against his palm, wrenching the fire poker free of Patrik’s hands and flinging it across the room in blind agony.

It clatters in front of Nikolaj’s feet and he bends down to pick it up.

The iron burns against his palm, but it feels like a memory of pain rather than the actual experience. He realizes that the touch of iron burns the old gods. He tightens his grip around the poker and sets the point of it on the hollow of his throat.

“Get out,” he says hoarsely. “I’ll do it. You can read my mind. Tell me I won’t.” He will and he knows she can feel it, because he can see into _ her _ mind, too. He knows the iron will burn her out of him and won’t let her back in. 

_ Fool, _ she says, like a crack of lightning in his mind, _ you will regret this. _

Nikolaj takes a deep breath, ready to shove the fire poker into his throat, then he feels the dizziness of vertigo and he falls to his knees.

A pile of leaves rustles in the corner, spinning slowly into the shape of a person.

Nikolaj’s head hurts. He brings a hand up to his forehead, bumping it against one of the antlers. It falls off easily, and so does the other one. 

He closes his hand around one of the antlers and stands up. 

Before he can turn to Patrik, the leaves rush at him too fast to escape. All he can do is swing the fire poker. 

The leaves drift slowly to the floor around him, scattered and formless. His heart pounds. _ She’s gone. _

Nikolaj turns in time to see Patrik swing his makeshift whip one last time before Tapio catches him by the wrist and bends in arm back until he drops the belt. Patrik cries out, his face twisting in pain.

Grabbing his throat, Tapio shoves him against the wall. His grip tightens slowly. “I prefer not to kill those whose bodies I take,” he says, the low rumble of a bear’s growl beneath his voice, “but I will _ enjoy _ killing you.” 

Patrik claws at his hands, but it’s no use.

Nikolaj brings the fire poker down _ hard. _

He drives it through Tapio’s bark-like skin until the pointed end is sticking out the front of his chest. Nikolaj lets it go, his hands shaking, and smoke curls up from the wounds. 

Tapio lets go of Patrik. Patrik slumps to the ground, one hand pressed against his neck while he coughs and gags.

Slowly, Tapio turns around. The smoke is black, coiling around the fire poker, and his face is a hideous mix of fury and pain.

He reaches out for Nikolaj, lurching forward, and then—stops. He scrabbles at his throat, howling, and Patrik pulls harder on the belt he’s wrapped around Tapio’s neck.

“Nikolaj,” Patrik calls, his voice rough, “finish it.” 

Nikolaj gribs the antler in his hand and steps forward until it’s pressed to the underside of Tapio’s chin. “This is for trying to kill Patrik,” he says, and drives the antler deep into his throat.

Tapio scream cuts off in a gurgling groan and he slumps forward. Patrik releases his grip on the belt and holds out his arms. Shaking, Nikolaj stumbles into him and wraps his arms around Patrik’s waist.

“Niky,” Patrik breathes, pressing kisses to Nikolaj’s hair, “Niky, Niky, I love you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

Nikolaj fists his hands in Patrik’s ruined shirt and buries his face in his chest. His eyes sting with tears, but this time he knows Patrik is real. They’re going to have nightmares for the rest of their lives, probably, but Nikolaj has Patrik’s arms around him and a dying god behind him, and he can’t bring himself to be scared of anything else.

At least, not until the acrid stench of smoke reaches him.

Patrik curses, his arms loosening around Nikolaj enough for him to turn.

Tapio hasn’t moved, but flames are building on his body around the fire poker and the fire is spreading fast.

“We have to go,” Nikolaj manages, wiping a hand roughly over his eyes. “Come on, we have to hurry.” He pulls Patrik’s arm until he stumbles after him, and they leave the room at a sprint.

The house is starting to collapse, rotten wooden beams unable to support themselves without the power of the forest gods to sustain them. The flowers on the walls catch too fast, lighting a path down the hallway as the flames race along.

Nikolaj narrowly avoids being crushed by a falling beam when Patrik pulls him out of the way.

The house is unfamiliar again, but this time in a way that makes sense. The hallways aren’t changing anymore and there aren’t any dead ends where there shouldn’t be. Still, Nikolaj can taste the smoke and feel the heat at his back. The ancient wood is burning too fast to be natural.

“Here,” Patrik says, then chokes on a cough, clutching his throat while he tries to breathe. He stumbles against the wall, dry heaving.

“Patty, we have to run,” Nikolaj manages, but his own voice is hoarse and rasping. The smoke is thickening around them.

“The door… there.” Patrik points a shaking hand. “You… go.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” Nikolaj says, trying to pull Patrik along.

But Patrik is weak, the effect of fighting Tapio finally starting to weigh on him.

“I can’t,” Patrik says, and his voice fails him. He touches Nikolaj’s face, fingers trembling, but the effort proves too much and his hand slips away. 

A roar echoes through the house, louder than the fire. Nikolaj turns around, still trying to hold Patrik upright. 

At the end of the hall, surrounded by white-hot flames and holding the fire poker in one burning hand, Tapio steps into view. 

His flesh is sloughing off as he burns, but he has enough strength left to start moving down the hall towards them.

“Let’s go, come on,” Nikolaj says, fear closing his throat and stealing his breath just as much as the smoke. 

Patrik shakes his head and tries to push Nikolaj towards the door, but he’s too weak for it to have much impact. “I’ll try to hold him off,” he whispers. His eyes flick back to Tapio’s slow but inevitable approach.

“No,” Nikolaj says fiercely. “You’re not dying here, not after everything.” Nikolaj gets himself under Patrik’s arm to hold him up, winding his own arm around Patrik’s waist. 

_ “You’ll die here,” _Tapio howls, his voice almost unrecognizable.

The heat licks at Nikolaj’s back, but he presses on. He’s strong, too, and he’s able to bear most of Patrik’s weight while Patrik stumbles along beside him. 

The door is within reach, heavy oak still untouched by flames.

Nikolaj reaches out, breathing raggedly through his teeth, and his hand closes around the rusted door handle. He turns it.

The door swings open easily, almost like it _ wants _ to be opened, and the cool night air washes over Nikolaj’s skin. 

His heart feeling like it’s going to pound out of his chest, he drags Patrik over the threshold before turning back to shut the door. He pulls it shut. 

The door is inches from being closed when Tapio’s burning hand grasps the edge, stopping it fast. Fire starts to curl over the wood.

Tapio snarls. Even his insides are burning, tongues of flame curling through the gaps in his teeth. “You cannot escape,” he gurgles.

Patrik’s arm tightens around Nikolaj’s shoulder. Nikolaj strains against Tapio’s strength, not letting the door open any wider. Patrik wraps a hand around Nikolaj’s over the door handle. 

“Fuck,” Patrik says, out of breath,_ “you.” _

Then, together, they pull the door shut.

Tapio’s fingers, crisped from the fire, are severed and fall lifelessly to the ground where they crumble into ash.

The two of them limp away from the house, still clinging to each other, and finally collapse into the bracken when they’re far enough away that nothing will fall on them.

Inside the house, the sound muffled and fading fast, Tapio is screaming.

Nothing burns outside the house. Even the summer-dry plants around it remain unburnt. 

Patrik curls up, coughing weakly. Nikolaj rubs a hand between his shoulder blades, trying to blink the sting of smoke out of his eyes. 

Eventually, Patrik manages to stop coughing and he sits up, leaning against a tree beside Nikolaj. Nikolaj leans against him, resting his head against Patrik’s shoulder and closing his eyes. The house continues to burn, the glow shining red through his eyelids.

It fades slowly, and when Nikolaj opens his eyes again, all that’s left is a dark smudge on the forest floor in the exact size and shape of the house. The sky is slowly getting brighter as the sun rises. They'd been in the house for _hours._

Patrik curls a hand around the back of Nikolaj’s neck and strokes his fingers gently through the hair there. He tugs out the now-dead grass and flowers, working until Nikolaj’s hair is loose from the braids and free of plants.

“I saw you,” Nikolaj whispers, even that too loud in the stillness of the night. “I thought I saw you, I mean. But it wasn’t you. They tricked me.” He feels Patrik nod against the top of his head.

“I saw you, too,” Patrik says. “They were trying to split us up, make it—” Patrik breaks off to cough, his whole body shaking. “—make it easier for them to take us.”

Nikolaj finds Patrik’s hand and laces their fingers together.

“No more splitting up,” he says firmly. “Not like this. Not again.”

“It’s my fault you’re here,” Patrik says hesitantly. “If I hadn’t asked you to come—”

Nikolaj elbows him in the ribs so hard that Patrik actually squeaks. If they hadn’t spent the better part of the night trapped in a house with two insane gods, Nikolaj might’ve laughed.

“It’s not your fault, stupid,” Nikolaj says. “How were you supposed to know any of this would happen?” He curls closer into Patrik’s side and rubs his thumb over his knuckles.

Patrik sighs and turns his face into Nikolaj’s hair instead of responding. “We should go back,” he says, after a long silence. “We can’t stay here, it’s not safe.” 

“Okay,” Nikolaj agrees, because the woods are a dangerous place. “In a minute?” Because he’s so tired now, having gone so long without rest, and his head is starting to hurt as the adrenaline fades. The bruises on his throat pound with pain in time with his heartbeat. He looks up and notices that Patrik has a matching collar of bruises, dark against his pale skin. 

Nikolaj brushes his fingers lightly over the marks, then leans up enough to press a gentle kiss to them. 

“Niky….” Patrik looks at him, his expression soft and open. He cups Nikolaj’s cheek and looks into his eyes searchingly. “I love you,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better.” 

Nikolaj pulls Patrik closer so he can rest their foreheads together. He closes his eyes, not sure he can handle Patrik’s gaze right now. Not with his emotions so tangled up in his chest. 

“You saved my life,” Nikolaj says, making sure the fierceness of his conviction bleeds through into his voice. Patrik makes a sound like he’s unsure, and Nikolaj digs his fingers into the back of his neck. “You _ saved _ me,” he repeats. He softens. “We saved each other.”

Patrik tilts Nikolaj’s chin up enough to kiss him carefully, keeping it short and sweet. Nikolaj sighs when it ends, tipping his forehead against Patrik’s shoulder for a minute. Patrik rubs his back.

“We should go,” Nikolaj murmurs. “We need—we should get to a hospital or something. For the smoke.” He stands up slowly, supporting himself against the tree, then pulls Patrik up. 

Patrik gathers Nikolaj into his arms and buries his face in his hair, taking a deep breath. Nikolaj can feel him shaking, and he’s trembling himself. He holds onto Patrik and tries to breathe, letting the warmth of Patrik’s body chase away the memories of the last twenty-four hours.

“Okay,” Patrik says finally, stepping back. Nikolaj doesn’t let go of his hand. “Let’s go.” 

Together, they turn their backs of the burned ground and walk back down the path. 

Later, they’ll be in the hospital trying to make up convincing lies to tell the doctors. That night, they will wake up screaming before falling back to sleep in each other’s arms. 

But right now, with Patrik’s hand in his and the moon shining bright overhead, Nikolaj breathes in the pine-scented air and doesn’t think about anything beyond this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> lore time! tapio and mielikki are finnish forest/hunt gods associated with big game and small game hunting, respectively. mielikki was supposedly involved in the creation of the bear, but i unfortunately didn't really know how to shove a bear in there. they lived in a house in the forest, so in this i made it seem like they took over some really old house and made it their own. the bodies they have in this were in my mind those of the former inhabitants. they were said to be benevolent unless hunters didn't make sacrifices, then they became evil and twisted. centuries without sacrifices..... well.
> 
> the "iron burns them" thing is from european folklore where iron could "repel, contain, or harm" malevolent supernatural entities. that's from wikipedia on iron in folklore. anyway.
> 
> basically, they're weak as fuck because finns used to sacrifice to them, worship them, all that good stuff, but not for centuries now. so they're just weakened.
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
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